Accidentally swallowing a bug is a bummer. It’s a bummer because ggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhakkkkkkkkkkcckkkkkkkkcahhhhhhhhh! That’s the noise you’re going to make when it happens, and that’s how your throat is going to feel for 20 minutes afterwards. Childhood un-bummer: There was an old lady who swallowed a fly. I don’t know why she swallowed a fly (perhaps she’ll die).
Getting winded is a bummer. Not after you’ve just done some serious exerting, then it’s fine. But when you’re winded after walking up the stairs out of the subway or something it’s a bummer because then you have to try and play it off, which requires either holding your breath so you’re not panting or faking a yawn. Both are lame and obvious and neither is really effective, but the alternative is breathing like an overeager golden retriever, so there’s really no better option. Curiously hilarious un-bummer: Fake panting (seriously, try it out next time you’re trying for a laugh).
Sample Sales are a bummer. You go in all jazzed like “I am about to get some SERIOUS BARGAINS on [insert designer name here]” and then once you start realizing that all the good stuff is still $1000 and all the not so good stuff is still not so good, you get more and more desperate until you find yourself holding a mustard yellow bubble miniskirt thinking “This would be totally appropriate for law school” and subsequently force yourself to leave. Additional bummer: No dressing rooms means you better be real comfortable dropping trou in front of a roomful of strangers.
The death of Scrabulous is a bummer. Scrabs finally being shut down by a lawsuit is a bummer because, in addition to being a great way to kill time at work, it also provided you the opportunity to pwn your friends with your mammoth intellect. No matter how hard you look, you will never again find a forum where your knowledge of the word “qi” is the ultimate trump card. Also a bummer: all vowels. Not a bummer: triple word score!
Being too old to do drugs is a bummer. Once you’re up over a certain age (30), it’s time to hang up your party boots. That means no staying up all night, no sleeping fully clothed on a friend of a friend’s couch, and no “knowing a guy who can get us anything.” Even though it’s a major bummer, because everyone knows drugs are the best, it’s still less of a bummer than being the most effective anti-drug PSA on record, which is what you will be if you don’t heed the call of adulthood. Also a bummer: That one old guy at the party who is creeping everyone out. 80’s bummer: Nancy Reagan.
When someone pukes on your stoop it’s a bummer. Leaving aside the disgustingness factor of walking out your door and being immediately confronted with a steaming pile of vomit, it’s a bummer because you would think the universe would be a little less heavy-handed when dealing out metaphors to illustrate the fact that your life sucks. Oh, just puke on the steps? What, you couldn’t find a marker suitable for scrawling “YOUR LIFE IS AN UNFUNNY JOKE, LOSER” across the front door? Grow up and stop being so trite, world. Unexpected un-bummer: Someone else cleans it up!
When people talk about their jobs it’s a bummer. Job talk is especially a bumout at parties because the purpose of a party is to get loose and riff with your friends, not to listen to some guy recite his resume. Unless you’re like the sword swallower at Coney Island, your job is fucking boring and no one wants to hear about it. For a party to be a success, there’s gotta be an implicit pact between guests to stick to topics that interest everyone. If this limits conversation to funny dogs, how freaking cool beer is and who at the party has the drugs, then so be it. Creepy unbummer: Diane Arbus photos of freaks.
Having your bubble juice stolen is a bummer. It’s a total bummer if your livelihood depends almost completely on surrounding an elephant in a giant bubble (dream job, btw) and your magic bubble potion takes longer to brew than homemade moonshine. On the other hand, it’s definitely not a bummer for the thief and his pals, who are probably already halfway to Mexico where they’ll throw an epic bubble party that people will be talking about for years. Like “Dude remember the Great Bubble Fiesta of ‘08? That was totally worth committing the most absurd felony in history.” Also a bummer: Taking bubbles too seriously. Early nineties rap bummer: bubble goose theft.
Thanks to Blair for the bummer idea and being on the all important bubble beat.
The fact that there are no Dairy Queens in New York is a bummer. If you want to get one of those delicious mint ice cream Girl Scout Cookie Blizzards, you’ve got to go to Jersey. And those things might be the jump off, but come on, crossing state lines for a food item is a bit much, non? High school unbummer: Cutting class to go to DQ.
Getting caught doping is a bummer. Getting busted for doping two weeks before the Olympics is a bummer because blood work doesn’t really lie and no matter how much you cry, that HGH is not going to uninject itself from your bloodstream. So now you’re 21 years old, you’ve spent your entire life doing the goddamn 100 meter breaststroke and you just got banned from doing the 100 meter breaststroke anywhere but your backyard pool. To add insult to injury, they’re probably going to take back that free trip to China too. Not a bummer: Michael Phelps!
